Becoming Sick In Juba…

I heard Dr. Konyokonyo is not in town and I don’t know where else to go…

For the past four days, I’ve been sick! I can’t remember what I ate or where I ate it, but my stomach has been making noices,  it aches and I have been visiting the restroom more often than I usually do. (Do you guys want details?)

Here in Juba, they say it’s a nice welcome, the Juba way. Everyone who’s new in Juba gets ‘welcomely’ hit by diarrhea and malaria sooner or later. That’s if Juba likes you… if not or if you are just unlucky, something else might hit you..

But I’m getting better, thanks to some pills called DiaFix. I’m already preparing for malaria…

Stay turned.

Life and Death in Juba

There are things about Juba or South Sudan in general that I have never ever seriously thought about until I came to Juba. In many ways, I’m beginning to understand myself and know why I view things the way I do

 For ages, I never knew the reason why I always thought I’d die young. In Juba, people talk about tragedy and death may be more often than Europeans talk about the weather. It’s all around. I can say I’ve been to more funerals than weddings…

 The other day as I was waking up, I heard an announcement over one of the many FM stations reporting 14 new unidentified bodies in the morgue. One crushed his motorbike onto a tree, another two were hit by a car. Don’t remember how many others perished when a car overturned on the Juba-Bor road and so on…

Death, dying and how it happened is the talk in almost everywhere you go.

Just after 2 days in Juba, something happened that stunned me. I was seated with some friends at home under the night sky. Other than the mosquitoes that keep me hitting myself, it was a nice night. The sky was clear and it was not too warm. As we sat there talking about everything and nothing in particular, we heard a loud bang … then an loud screams of what sounded like pain, confusion or freight. Being new in Juba, I did not know what to think of it, but my curiosity was already in first gear. Like he read my mind, my brother started to wonder loudly whether a car had overturned and fallen into the river. I was later told that on this road, Tombura road, and the Tombura bridge strange accidents have been happening….

My brother got hold of his torch as there are not road lights in Juba, and asked if I wanted to come with him to see what was up.. 

Me? Of course…why not I thought. We walked like for 2 minutes and spotted that a crowd had already gathered on the Kator side of the Tombura Bridge. As we got closer, my brother’s pace lowered and mine increased.  I was curious and eager to see what the fuss was all about.

My brother, who has lived and managed to stay alive in Juba told me not to get too deep into the crowd. I wanted to see first-hand whatever it was that had happened, but he was like “ya jek, mata ruwa inak!” (don’t go there..) 

So what was the point of being there if you can see what everyone is seeing, right? There was no way I was going to let this one pass me…. I don’t know if it was a good idea, but all the same, I got there… then I saw it… and later pieced together what had happened. 

It was an accident. On the side of the road I saw a motorbike that looked like it had been run over 3 times by a monster-truck. I can not understand how it was hit. Both its wheels were totally twisted. Next to it, lay the lifeless body of a young man, probably in this early/mid 20’s. His head was totally deformed, you could still recognise a face but that head was smashed… I am not a doctor, but it looked like his back was also broken. Although his eyes where still wide open, it looked like he died instantly when he was hit by whatever hit him.
Then I heard someone say there was another fatality. I navigated through the crowd looking for the other body. Women were crying, screaming and yelling everywhere. There was a state of total confusion. Still eager to see the second body, I was unable to put together the pieces of information and data that was coming from those who probably saw the whole thing happen or arrived there before I did.

Anyway, I got there and saw the second corpse. The crowd had formed a circle around him. He looked younger than the first but his body was not as crushed as the first one. He clearly looked dead, but some people would still kneel down to feel his pulse and without any emotion announce “aaah, de intaaha!” (this one is finished!)

I stood there for what seemed like an eternity. Maybe the shock had my feet frozen, I don’t know. Somehow, my brother found me in the crowd and not so much told me but ordered that we leave the place immediately. There was no sign of the law or order around, so anything could happened. I dragged me feet out of the crowd, got to the road and was ready to leave. Someone had just arrived and was asking what had happened. We stopped to listen.

The two victims were on the bike. They were coming from the direction of the University of Juba heading to Kator and got hit by an SPLA truck that was traveling in the opposite way. The truck did not stop as is customary in Juba… it drove on and it was probably then that it ran over one of the boys and their bike. Gauging from the general mood of the crowd, the truck could have been burned and the driver, SPLA or not (if alone) could have been beaten up. People here can only tolerate so much…

Again, my brother reminded me that we had to leave… and in confusion, I obeyed. I don’t remember saying anything on the way back, but some part of me wanted to know how this was going to end. Where are the police, it’s been over 20 minutes… who are those kids? Are they brothers? Why did the driver of the truck run away? Will he be caught? Why was the truck driving so fast? Why has something been done about this road? OMG…

At home, I was restless and the need to go back there was getting even stronger. I knew I could not take my camera with me to make pics except if I wanted to be the third corpse. So, when I heard sirens some 40 minutes after the accident had occurred, I thought even my brother would not hold me back if I told him I wanted to see what the police were going to do.

When I got there, the police had already loaded both corpses into a car. I heard that when they lifted the first one, his brains spilled over. One onlooker knew the boys and he alerted the family who lived not too far away.

They were brothers from the same mother!

The mother got there just before the police did and had to see both her sons in that state. Sad, a very sad day indeed for mother…..

The crowd slowly dissolved into the night.. for most of them, it was just another day in Juba. For the mother and me, this day we shall never forget..

In Juba..

I am finally home in Juba! Now just days in this place I call home, the excitement has worn out and I have to adjust to survive in this crazy place.

I’ll be keeping you updated. Here are some pics..(the connection is slow, so here’s one just for now). It’s a riverside bar/restuarant called DaVinci close to the Juba Bridge)

Juba, Here I Come…

So, the moment is finally here! In the coming few days I’ll be back in Juba, South Sudan.

Visa
Yes, even a returnee like myself needs a visa to (re)enter Sudan. You see, the thing is when we refugees fleed to the West, most of us tore our passports on the plane or at the airport just before seeking asylum. I thought it was a dumb thing to do (tear the passport), and I swear I gave mine to the authorities to kinda prove my identity. Years later, it expired and since we asked for protection from the Sudanese government, the authorities had to provide us with some kind of travel document.

So, here I am years later going back to my country with a foreign travel document. To enter Sudan legally, I have to get a visa or risk deportation.  And if I enter, I will have to register within two weeks or so, just like any other foreigner. Sudan has rules too you know…

Flight Route..
Because I am going to Juba, I thought I had to pass via Khartoum; stay a day or two; make some pics and get some stories to blog about. But I was wrong, I got a ticket straight to Juba with a brief connection at an East Africa city!

Great, right? I’ll leave Europe like today and be in Juba tomorrow bypassing the Sharia Capital of the World- Khartoum!

Pocket Money and Gifts…
Juba is expensive, is expensive, is expensive! And this returnee is so broke he can’t even pay attention to this warning. But God is always our side…

As for gifts, I have not gotten any. Even if I wanted to take some gifts, I would not know where to start. A ‘friend’ of mine said: just tell them the bag with gifts got lost… What I’ll do is give each of them a big warm hug and smile at them like I’m selling a tooth-whitening product.

Juba, Friends and Nite-life
The first I’ll do is blend in, which would not be a problem considering how simple I am. The last time I was in Sudan, people did not believe I came from Europe because I did not look or dress like I come from outside. I loved it everytime I heard it.

(to be continued..)